How Could She Have Known?
by SlytherinOwl
Summary: She did not mind being muggleborn. Quite the opposite in fact, she took pride in it. But sometimes, not having grown up in the wizarding world made her miss very important things. She wished she had been aware of it sooner, but then again, as a muggleborn, how could she have known? - HH's RollAPrompt2017 - First Place: Best Characterization, Runner Up: Best Plot Development - *OS*


All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.  
This work was published without being checked over by a beta.

In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the RollAPrompt2017 collection.

 **Prompt:**

Entry #1 Claim Only

Hermione Granger/Neville Longbottom  
Soulmate/Soul Bond

* * *

In most cases Hermione Granger did absolutely not mind being a muggleborn. If anything, she took pride in the fact that she had not known she was a witch until she had turned eleven and still outperformed her classmates.

She could not hide the pleasure it brought her when she was the best in her class, year after year.

But sometimes… sometimes the fact that she was oblivious to so much of her true nature was also a matter of great frustration for the young witch.

No matter how many books she read on spells, potions or transfiguration, there was simply not enough time to study old wizarding customs, traditions or things as simple as children's stories that were referenced by others in conversation. When she missed these references, that were absolutely normal even for Ron, who was not the most dedicated student, it was a matter of great frustration for her.

Even when she was an adult by both magical and muggle standards, she didn't understand why witches and wizards of muggle descent were not to know they possess magic until they turned eleven. Not only could there have been a lot of spared pain from bullying when she went to school, but she would have also been spared the endless self-doubting, thinking there was something wrong with her, that she was a freak. And, maybe even more important, if she had known earlier what she was, she could have learned a lot more about the culture that she was part of.

Coming into the wizarding world at the age of eleven made her feel like a guest in someone else's dream. She knew this culture was her culture, but it did not actually feel like it, at least not when she was younger.

In Hogwarts there was a class called Muggle Studies and in her first year Hermione almost took offence to that. Why was there a class called Muggle Studies for people who were no muggles, but the dozens of muggleborns had to struggle with wizarding tradition and customs because no one cared to explain them to them?

And maybe, she reflected at the age of 18, if she had been part of that culture for all her life, or at least had gotten an actual education in it, things would have gone differently for her.

Because, in all honesty, with how little wizarding kind seemed to care about properly educating muggleborns, how could she have known?

* * *

It all started on September 1st, a few days before her twelfth birthday.

She had boarded the Hogwarts Express, her head swirling with all the things she had read, a smile on her face. She was excited and terrified in equal parts, having spent every available minute since she got her letter trying to learn as much as she could and now she felt as though she was bursting with information – that no one seemed to care about!

She had tried to talk to a blond-haired boy earlier, question him about what house he wanted to be in, whether he had read the same books she did, but all he did was sneer at her and tell her that _of course_ he would be a Slytherin, and _of course_ she wouldn't be. "Granger? Are you a _muggle_?"

That had been how she met Draco Malfoy. She learned his name at the welcoming feast, he did not even bother to introduce himself to her on the train.

She had tried it again, with a girl her age who also had curly brown hair. This one at least introduced herself. She was called Lavender Brown, was apparently also a first year, and she wanted to be in Gryffindor so badly that she could not stop squeaking about it and was so excited in a girlish, squealing way, that Hermione discreetly fled to another compartment after a fifteen-minute monologue from Lavender about how much the red of the Gryffindor crest would compliment her eyes.

Disheartened she had sat down in a compartment at the end of the train, staring forlorn out of the window.

Suddenly a shaky voice spoke from the other side of the bench.

"H-Hello, my name is Nev-Neville. Neville Longbottom."

Hermione had almost had a heart attack when the boy spoke.

She had absolutely not noticed the plump, brown-haired boy with horribly crooked teeth who was sitting there. But maybe he would actually be nice?

She carefully smiled at him. "Lovely to meet you, Neville. I am Hermione Granger." She put her hand in his direction and waited for him to shake it.

His handshake was limp, clammy and he looked at her hand like it was a snake, poised to strike.

The opposite what a young but already very self-confident Hermione Granger expected of a wizard. For some reason she thought they should be quite confident – they were wizards after all!

And yet… something in her changed with that handshake. She could not pinpoint what it was, but she looked at Neville, whose eyes had grown big like saucers.

She felt at peace, suddenly. She did not want to tell him everything she learned in the past weeks. She was simply content to sit in this compartment and be quiet.

Whether it was the same for him or whether he was just too shy to speak, she could not say. But he did not speak either.

At least until he noticed that Travers, his toad, was missing. Hermione smiled when his brow furrowed with worry for his toad and she agreed to help him looking for it.

* * *

In the following weeks Hermione sought out Neville a lot. It was not because she was lonely, which she _desperately_ was, but because every time she was near him this sense of peace came back over her.

And she was desperately in need of peace.

One of the reasons was Ron Weasley, who made her first few weeks of Hogwarts quite unpleasant.

She did not mean to be a know-it-all – though she had been called one often enough even prior to Hogwarts – but she had thought that maybe finally her knowledge would be appreciated. It seemed she was wrong.

But at least Neville had become a good friend to her in these difficult weeks. He did not talk much, mostly because it for some reason still seemed to her that he was afraid of talking to her, but he was always there when she needed him.

And he was not just there for the first few weeks of the school year, he was there for her all through the following years. Even when she had to petrify him at the end of her first year, he was not cross with her.

He came to her when she was still in the Hospital Wing and did not say one word to scold her. He just asked "Are you okay?" and when she nodded he threw his arms around her middle and hugged her as if his life depended on it.

* * *

They took up studying together in their third year and he almost never took his eyes off her once Ron and Harry stopped speaking with her, when she had told McGonagall about the broom Harry got, or when Ron was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers.

When she got back from freeing Sirius Black she was sure he would murder her, out of worry of course, but he was just pale and shaky and absolutely terrified for her and she felt bad all over again.

* * *

Throughout their years at Hogwarts, she always confided in him. He was the only one who knew about her Time-Turner when she got it. When Harry and Ron drove her up the walls, he was the first person she turned to.

When she was on speaking terms with Harry and Ron she was worried about not spending enough time with Neville. Several times she had proposed that the four of them should studying together, in a group, so that Neville did not feel left out, but he preferred having her for himself for a shorter time than always having to share her with Harry and Ron.

In their third year he showed her how much he trusted her. It was then that he told her about his parents, his grandmother and his life at home. Her heart broke for him and she had hugged him for dear life. After a while he had proposed that she maybe could accompany him to St Mungo's during the holidays? She agreed, so during the summer between third and fourth year she got to know his parents.

* * *

Then their fourth year rolled around and things became a bit tense.

Hermione was more often in the library than anywhere else, but to Neville's chagrin she was not alone. No, of all the people that could have taken an interest in her, it was Viktor Krum who had started hanging around her a lot. Asking her about books, looking for reading recommendations, or just quietly sharing her table in a dark corner of the library.

Thus, Neville spent less and less time in the library and Hermione figured that he was annoyed with the amount of time she spent there this year and with how little contact they had outside of it. She could not have imagined him to be self-conscious and jealous.

Then Viktor Krum had asked her to accompany him to the Yule Ball. Surprised but pleased, Hermione had agreed to go with him.

Not even an hour later Neville had asked her the very same thing.

Her heart seemed to sink, a coldness crept over her. When she told him that she had already been asked, and by whom, he had just nodded. The hopeful smile he had worn when asking her had also disappeared. His hand went shakily into his hair, he shrugged and tried to end the conversation as fast as possible.

He seemed utterly disappointed by her not going with him and she could not understand why.

 _How_ _ **could**_ _she have understood?_

They had not spoken much until the Yule Ball. They still sought out each other's company, for some reason even if they were not talking it was soothing, but something seemed to have changed. Hermione studied even more than before, though now she did more of it in the common room where Neville would usually sit just a desk away from her.

When it was finally the day of the ball Hermione had lost most of her excitement. Yes, she was going with Viktor Krum. Yes, she had a wonderful dress. But she could not be truly happy about it, because every time she wanted to gush about the evening like the other girls in her year did, she just saw Neville's disappointed expression when she told him she was going with someone else.

After a snowball fight that most of Gryffindor House was involved in, she retreated and spent the larger part of the afternoon with getting ready.

Viktor was the perfect gentleman all evening. Instead of being as stern as he usually was, he was friendly, funny and she could say that the evening was – from an outsider's perspective – close to perfect. But Hermione's heart seemed to ache every time she saw Neville dancing with Ginny. She could absolutely not explain it, not in the least, because Ginny was her _friend_ and so was Neville, and she should be able to be happy if they had a nice evening, shouldn't she?

It was a most peculiar feeling, but she could not help that her stomach clenched every time Neville smiled at Ginny.

So, the evening went by slowly, while poor Viktor did everything he could to cheer her up. She tried to laugh in the appropriate moments and she did her best to smile at him a lot. It was not his fault that her mood had dropped, after all.

It was when she spoke with Ron that she was sure her evening could not possibly get any worse.

"You're here with Krum! You're fraternizing with the enemy! That's what you're doing!" He had shouted at her. Rationally, she knew that he was angry with her about something and was talking nonsense. It did not make her feel any better though. Did Neville think the same thing? That she was a traitor somehow, for going to a stupid ball with someone from Durmstrang? She could not imagine him being so stupid.

Ron continued with his rant though, and at the end of it Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

"Don't be so stupid!" She had shouted at him, turned on her heel and fled from the Great Hall.

Hermione had run through the corridors. When she was out of breath she had looked for an empty classroom and sat down in one of the deserted seats. She put her head in her hands and tried to calm herself. She could not say why she was so upset. It had just been the usual game. Ron was jealous of something or someone, so he lashed out. He particularly seemed to like lashing out at her.

But everything on top of each other just drove her crazy. Not talking to Neville anymore, seeing him having fun with Ginny while she struggled to smile when Viktor tried to make a joke, then Ron feeling as if he had known better how to judge right from wrong than her.

It must have been more than half an hour later when she felt ready to face them again. Her hair was probably a mess, and she guessed that her face was one as well, but she couldn't change it and could not bring herself to care about her looks any more than she already did.

She wandered down the halls and halfway to the Great Hall she met Viktor who was visibly distressed and had obviously been searching for her.

"Hermininy, you are okay?" He asked, reaching for her.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you. I just had an argument with a friend."

"Yes, I heard it. You were gone so fast though, couldn't find you." The expression on his usually stoic face was one of worry.

"I am really sorry, I did not want to ruin the evening for you." Now she felt even worse than before, Viktor had been cluelessly wandering around the castle to find her.

"You did not. Another dance?" He asked.

"I'd love to." It was only half a lie. She did want to make up for deserting him though, so even though she wanted to go to bed she would dance with him another time. Viktor took her hand and escorted her back to the Great Hall.

In the end, Viktor did manage to cheer her up and instead of just dancing another dance they stayed until Dumbledore sent the remaining students off to bed. Not seeing Neville and Ginny probably helped her mood, but Viktor was trying hard to make her laugh and was very sweet to her.

It was midnight when Dumbledore called an end to the festivities and Hermione had not seen Harry, Ron or Neville for quite some time at this point, but she was sure she would see at least Ron sooner than she wanted.

In a very gentlemanly manner Viktor escorted her to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She was holding onto the arm he had offered her and they were standing in front of the portrait indecisively. Once she thought Viktor might be tempted to kiss her, but as soon as she thought it his eyes were back looking at her eyes not her lips. Weirdly enough she was quite relieved when nothing happened.

"Have a good night, Hermininy." He smiled at her, spun around and walked off.

Hermione took a deep breath, gave the fat lady the password, and entered.

And there was Ron again. "Well, how was your evening with the enemy?" He sneered at her.

"I had a wonderful evening once you were gone," she almost growled.

If possible, Ron's head turned even more scarlet. Before he could say anything more though, Neville was there.

"Leave her alone, Ron."

Hermione had not noticed him, he had apparently been sitting on a chair close to the fire place. Now he had stood up and walked to stand between Hermione and Ron, his back to her.

Ron stared angrily at Neville as well, but spun around and stalked off, muttering to himself.

Neville and Hermione stood there for a second, quietly. Then he turned around, facing her.

He looked really handsome in his robes, Hermione thought, but did not dare voice it.

"Hermione… I…" He stopped and looked at her, seemingly lost.

She did not know what to say either, she just took one step in his direction, then another. When she stood in front of him and he did not draw away or scowl at her, she threw her arms around him. His arms closed around her waist and held her close, while she buried her face in his neck.

"I'm sorry I behaved so ridiculously... I…" he broke off but held her a bit tighter.

After a couple of minutes Hermione lifted her head to look at him.

"I missed you," she whispered. It sounded ridiculous even to her own ears, because they did see each other, they even spoke. It's not as if one had actually been away.

"And I missed you," he murmured. His expression was soft when he looked at her. "You are absolutely beautiful, Hermione."

She felt her lips heating up. "Thank you." She went back to hiding her face in his neck.

When she went to bed this night, after sitting next to the fire with Neville for more than an hour, she noticed that she felt truly peaceful for the first time in weeks.

* * *

When the second task rolled around and Hermione was kept underwater for Viktor Krum to fetch, Neville was about to commit murder. He could not imagine that Hermione had given her consent for this. And even if she had, she would have told him in advance.

But no, he had been sick with worry all morning when he couldn't find her. He had been feeling peculiar since last night and was now close to panicking.

When McGonagall had admitted where she was, he genuinely thought he was getting a stroke. So here he was now, sitting there with more than half his school, watching the lake closely.

He only calmed down when Hermione was safely with Madame Pomphrey. But Hermione of course had not seen how her abduction to the lake had made Neville worry.

* * *

In the end of their fifth year Neville broke his arm and was knocked unconscious in the Department of Mysteries when he tried to protect her from Dolohov.

* * *

In their sixth year he was still her best friend, but the ongoing struggle with Harry was taking their toll on their relationship. It was the first time that Hermione actually needed to keep things from Neville. She almost desperately wanted to tell him everything that was going on, with the Horcruxes, Harry's lessons and the plans that were being made of looking for the Horcruxes.

But she couldn't.

She was too worried about what would happen when they were gone and Neville was still at Hogwarts, what would happen to him if someone found out what he knew? What would they do to him to make him talk? She thought about his parents a lot and continued to tell him nothing.

Then Dumbledore died.

* * *

Neville wanted her to promise him to visit him after Fleur and Bill's wedding. She promised, but planned on saying her goodbyes to him at the wedding. When the day of the wedding came around, an owl arrived, stating that the Longbottom's could not attend.

It broke Hermione's heart to know that she would disappear and could not even see Neville for a final time.

When chaos broke out during the wedding and Hermione realised that she had been right, she was afraid of never seeing Neville again. It took until May the following year, but she was wrong, she did see him again.

* * *

Hermione had lost weight, she was almost gaunt, she was pale, tired and hungry. And yet, when the passageway to Hogwarts opened and she saw Neville's face, she never felt more alive.

A tiny part in her soul that seemed to have been aching since last summer was singing out in happiness, and none of the others could even blink before Hermione had literally jumped at Neville, her arms thrown around his neck, clinging to him desperately.

One of his hands grabbed her around her starved waist, the other hand was lost in her dark curls when he pulled her to him.

"Hermione…" he whispered, but did not continue.

Hermione just grabbed him more tightly and hid her face in his neck like she did three years ago after the Yule Ball.

Their reunion did not last for long though. They had to get to Hogwarts, so Hermione and Neville let go of each other, even though they did not let the other out of their eyes as long as they could. The moment when they had to go separate ways again came too soon for both of them.

During the battle they only spotted each other a handful of times. When Hagrid brought Harry's body into the yard, Neville was holding fast onto Hermione to keep her from running over to Hagrid.

When he spoke up against Voldemort though, and Voldemort put the Sorting Hat on his head and set it aflame, he let go of Hermione. He screamed out in pain, but the battle started up again and no one paid him any mind. No one apart from Hermione, as soon as Neville had uttered a sound of pain she tried to get the Hat off and succeeded when Neville and she both tried to rip it away.

The Hat had landed on the ground and Hermione had turned to him, asking "Neville, are you alright?" in a shaky tone, when Neville saw the dreadful snake come close to the from behind Hermione's back.

He could not even think his actions through – he saw a silver shimmer coming from the Sorting Hat, grabbed it, pushed Hermione out of the way and slashed with the sword of Gryffindor at Nagini's head, effectively beheading her.

* * *

"Hermione?" Luna asked, when she sat next to her, hours after Harry killed Voldemort, surrounded by rubble and exhausted from the battle, yet unable to sleep just yet.

"Yes, Luna?" Hermione's eyes were already closed, her head was leaning against what was left of the wall in this particular hallway.

"Since when have Neville and you known that you were soulmates?"

"… what? Luna, what are you talking about?" Hermione's eyes had snapped open and she was staring at Luna with wild eyes.

"Oh, I do suppose that answers the question." Luna seemed contend to let it go, but Hermione would not have it.

"Luna, what do you mean with soulmates?" Her hands had started shaking.

Luna was quiet for a second.

"Do you honestly don't know?" Hermione quietly shook her head.

"It is said that in every generation there is a witch and a wizard. They are quite happy on their own, until they have found their soulmate. If they have, they will only be truly content when they can be near each other." Luna looked at her, considering. "Their magic complements each other, as do their characters. It is as if they are one person, put in two bodies."

Hermione was quiet for a minute. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Hermione. I always thought it must be you and Neville. Did you never think that your friendship was somehow different than other friendships?"

Hermione considered her next words carefully. "Yes, but… I never thought…" She shook her head. "When I first touched Neville's hand, I felt such an immense amount of peace." She whispered. Luna nodded. "It's just… I never even had time to consider what exactly our relationship was. We never spoke about it."

"I think he was afraid. And he probably assumed that you knew what was going on." Luna almost smiled when she said this.

"Why did he not once mention it?" Hermione closed her eyes. It was a lot to take in.

"Maybe he was afraid of rejection? Did he never try to tell you that for him it was more than simple friendship?" Luna inquired.

"No! He didn-…" Hermione fell silent. Pictures from the Yule Ball, and from Neville asking her to it, came back to her. As did how they sat next to each other after the ball. How he took her in his arms when life got out of hand, how she clung to him when she finally saw him again, and how he always tried to protect her, even against people like Antonin Dolohov.

As if she were in a trance she slowly got up, stretching her aching muscles.

"I will see you later, Luna!" Hermione needed to see Neville right now.

Luna smiled and waved in Hermione's direction. This had been a long time coming.

* * *

Hermione finally found Neville in what was left of the Gryffindor common room. Apparently, he also could not sleep and instead stared out onto the grounds through the massive holes in the walls onto the grounds.

When he heard someone enter, his head turned. As soon as he recognised her, he got up.

"Hermione, we need to ta-…" Neville started but Hermione said at the same time "I know."

Neville looked at her face carefully. "You know?"

"Yes, I do." And then she did something she had wanted to do since the Yule Ball.

She took his face in her hands, leaned close to him and kissed him softly on his lips. His arms went around her body and held her close to him.

"How did you find out?" He asked quietly when they broke the kiss off, forehead leaning against forehead.

"Luna told me." Hermione whispered.

"Bless her," was his response.

"But is it really true? Soulmates?" She asked, still not quite able to believe it.

"I think it is. The stories are told to wizarding children when they are already very young, everyone hopes that they will one day find their soulmate."

"Luna said it is just one couple in every generation."

"I don't know whether that's true. But I do know that being without you makes me miserable, and it did from the moment I met you on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago."

She looked him deep in the eyes. Where had shy unsure Neville gone to? She laid her palm on his face, softly moving it in circles across the stubble from his beard.

"I didn't know. I am glad I do know. I don't think I would have done this right now if Luna had not told me."

Suddenly Neville laughed. "The fact that we both are completely sleep deprived probably helped your courage."

When he mentioned it, Hermione felt tired again. "That… could be true…" She leaned against him and tried not to yawn.

Neville led her over to one of the armchairs, sat down and pulled her down on his lap. His arms were wrapped around her waist, her arms were wrapped around his neck, their heads leaning against each other when they fell asleep.

* * *

Her last thoughts before sleep took her were, that there really should be a class for muggleborns to learn more about the world they were thrust into.

Because how could she have known that her soulmate had been right next to her from the moment she stepped onto the Hogwarts Express to this strange place she now called home?

9


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